48: What Did I Walk Into?

I wake up. Great.

I'm butt to butt with Oliver. We're facing away from each other in my bed. After last night, the two of us fell asleep talking about better times. Oliver spoke about the galas he remembers me attending. It was long ago, the days of fancy evenings out at the Grey residence, but Oliver spoke as if they'd all happened yesterday.

I do a 180 so I'm facing Oliver's bare back. He had a big bruise that ran across his shoulder blade. It looked fresh, or as fresh as a bruise can look, it was bright purple with an ugly green outline. My finger goes up to trace the bruise and I feel Oliver tense at my touch.

"Good morning," I whisper.

Oliver flips over so that his back is to the bed, hiding the bruise from view. He's looking at me through those bright blue eyes of his, no emotions on his face. He looks tired, but still hot in his 'just woke up' appearance.

I lay back down so that I too am on my back. Oliver's arm falls under me before I do so, bringing me close to him. My head rests in the nook between his chest and his arm and I let my legs intertwine around one of his. I smile at his little show of affection and stare at my ceiling in silence.

"Fuck, it's still February."

Oliver let's out a breathy laugh, "At least it's Saturday."

I sigh, closing my eyes and snuggling further into Oliver as I do. I lay there for a second, taking in Oliver's warmth. Somehow, Oliver always radiates heat, or maybe I'm just always cold. That could be it too.

Oliver and I lay in bed, wrapped up in each other, until we hear the twins in the bathroom. The toilet flushing warns us that it's time to get up and start our lazy Saturday. I groan, not wanting to move from my comfy position resting on Oliver. Oliver gives me a small squeeze and lifts us both up into a seated position. I pulls the covers off and climb over him to stand up.

"How do your feel about doing nothing all day?"

"Anything with you," Oliver says, but then adds in a hurry, as to not be caught thinking about his words, "guys."

I give him a closed-lipped smile and nod before turning around and walking to the bathroom. I hear Oliver on the other side of the door mumbling to himself as he shuffles around the room. Something falls and Oliver grunts in frustration. I quickly finish up and go to check that everything's alright.

"You okay out here?" I ask him.

Oliver looks up to me from his position on the floor. He was picking up the clothes that were scattered about the floor by the couch. Guess he finally sparked a taste for fashion.

"Fine."

I raise an eyebrow at him and cross my arms, "Yeah, crawling on the floor looks good on ya."

He stares at me a moment longer before going back to doing his thing. He grabs shirts and pants and throws them on the couch just to get them off the floor. An amused look graces my face and I walk off to the kitchen, leaving Oliver to whatever he's going through on my bedroom floor.

During breakfast I get a text from Grayson. It's about Oliver and I can't help but laugh at what he says.

'Oliver lost his sanity, don't vacuum.'

What does that even mean? I reply back and look up to find Oliver already looking up at me with a questioning glare.

"Who is it?"

"Grayson, says you lost your sanity."

Oliver grunts, "That mother fu."

He stops himself as the twins run out of their room and towards the living room, antsy to watch a movie. I give Oliver a small smile and make my way over to the living room to help out the twins.

"I already promised him I wouldn't vacuum."

While the twins and I watch the movie, Oliver is hidden away in the bedroom. I assume he's cleaning up from whatever crisis ensued in the morning, the one that ended with piles of clothes on the floor. Halfway through the movie, I go off to check up on Oliver. At least to make sure he hasn't drowned in bad boy fashion.

I walk into my room only to be greeted by Oliver's sweatpants clad butt and his head hidden under my bed. I walked in at the wrong moment, didn't I? Oliver Grey is searching under my bed like a scared kid that thinks monsters live there.

"What did I walk into?" I try to cover up my amusement.

"Trying to find my sanity, as Grayson puts it."

I walk up to Oliver, getting down on my knees to help. He stops looking under the bed and turns to me.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping," I give him a little shrug, "I can't have you going insane."

Oliver smiles and looks around the room. He points to the closet.

"Check over there."

I furrow my eyebrows but go over to my closet anyway. I have no idea what I'm looking for, but for the sake of Oliver I play along. I look around the floor, between my shoes and dirty clothes Ive left scattered on the floor. Still, I'm clueless as to what Oliver's sanity could look like.

After a couple of minutes Oliver lets out a sigh of relief. I stand up from my awkward position on the floor and look to the other side of the room where Oliver is. I catch him putting a small velvet box in his gym bag.

He looks to me, a little shocked that I'm already staring at him, "Found it," He rubs the back of his neck.

I give a smile, not asking any questions I know I probably won't get the answer to.

"Come, we can still catch the end of the movie."

I extend my hand for him, walking to the door as I wait for him to follow along. He shakes his head and walks to me, dropping his arm across my shoulders instead of taking my hand. Oliver leans down to my ear, his hot breath fanning my hair.

"Coming."

I roll my eyes at him, staying silent as a response to his little sexual comment. Always one for a dirty mouth. We sit down on the couch, Oliver keeping his arm around me as we snuggle together. I pull my phone out to text Grayson.

'We found it, crisis averted.'

'Thank the heavens. Insane Oliver sounds like a pain in the ass.'

'He already is one.'

Oliver slaps my arm with the hand that's across my shoulders. I look up to him with a. innocent smile. His stone cold face gives nothing away, but by the way he keeps glaring down at my phone and then back to me, it seems it has something to do with the text I just sent to Grayson.

"Pain in the butt, really?" He rewords for the sake of the twins that are close.

Although, the twins are too invested in their own thing to even realize Oliver and I are in the same room as them, much less having a conversation.

"Good pain," I pat his chest in a way to sooth his broken ego.

He glares at me, staying silent as he shuffles back into position. I stay staring at Oliver's profile. There's a little nick at the bottom of his jaw from shaving. He's biting his bottom lip, concentrating on the movie. His eyes are relaxed again, no longer in their glare. I smile and rest my head on his shoulder, looking to the movie as well.

Grayson goes on to text me every day, at least once, to tell me either something dumb Oliver did it or how stupid he looks. There's always something Grayson finds to point out Oliver's not-so-perfectness. It's kind of funny to see Grayson bash Oliver when most of time, okay, all of the time except for these texts, it's the other way around. Oliver doesn't find them as humorous and uplifting as I do. He thinks Grayson has some master plan to convert me to team Grayson when the two of them start bantering. Seems a little extreme.

My favorite so far has been today's, day six of our little fun. It's Friday, laundry day at the house which means there's usually not a lot of clean clothes for the day. Well, Oliver forgot to plan his outfits.

'He looks like a bee today. Buzz buzz, motherfucker.'

I laugh at my phone, Grayson's text brightening my otherwise normal day. I search around the hall, trying to find Oliver on the off chance he'll show up for the last class of the week. Unlikely, he always excuses himself with the fact that he's the star football player. But then I see him, walking towards the doors that give way to the boys locker rooms. He's wearing a yellow shirt with black jeans and his black leather jacket. Now that his leather jacket is open and I can see his shirt, I can see Grayson's point.

'He's found his spirit animal.'

A few moments later I get a text from the man himself, Oliver.

'I'm a polar bear.'

I roll my eyes at the text. Of course he texts me now. I'm not even surprised he already knows about my texts with Grayson. If I acted surprised every time he did this, It'd be my constant stare. I've accepted it by now. He's Oliver Grey, he knows everything.

'Polar bear?'

'Fluffy, warm, and strong.'

I agree with two of those three.